How Far is a Long Way From Home?
by MadMoonLunatic
Summary: After his death at the hands of Thanos, Peter Parker, A.K.A Spider-Man, wakes up inside the Soul stone, only for Gamora to tell him she sent his body elsewhere. Watch as Peter uses both his experience and his smarts to become one of the greatest Hero's ever, but to do that, he has to attend one of the greatest Hero Schools ever, UA.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter - 1 - the end is just the beginning

-X-

Aunt May used to say 'that the end is just the beginning.'

Peter never truly dwelt on that thought until now, as he looked up at Mr Stark and felt, deep down into his core, that something was wrong.

He could feel it, he even watched it happen to those friendly alien people.

He knew he was going to die.

He thought back to every time that the tingle in the back of his head rang, told him to duck, sidestep, run, jump, push, pull, or even catch, he thought back to the dull ache each one seemed like now.

At the time it felt like shooting shivers, tingles, even warmth on the rarest occasions.

Right now, all he could feel was a pain.

Shooting pain that went straight up his spine into that familiar spot of warning at the back of his head.

He could only feel dead as the people around him crumbled to ash.

He could only look to his mentor, scared, sick, terrified, paint, there was so much pain.

"Mr Stark… I don't feel so good." His voice was rough, the choking from before probably left bruising, he thought, trying to keep his mind off the pain that filtered through his being.

Pain. **Pain**. **PAIN**

It hurts!

He stumbled forward, caught by the arms of his mentor.

He looked up at the man, a man who he has always admired, a man who always seemed confident, proud, strong.

He wasn't that man now.

Right now his face was withering above him, pained features that highlighted his glassy eyes.

He looked like the world was crumbling beneath him.

No.

More than that, he looked like the world was crumbling around him, as he watched helplessly.

Everyone around him dying without so much as a goodbye.

Wait, dying?

...Was he dying?

"I don't wanna go…"

No! There's still so much I have to do.

I still have to help May clean the house, I haven't cleaned my room. "I don't wanna go." What about my homework? "I don't wanna go." What about school! What about Ned, and MJ, who was going to help Ned build his next Star Wars LEGO set? "I don't wanna go." Who was MJ going to call a loser when they both meet in detention. "I don't wanna go."

"I don't wanna go, _I don't wanna go_, **I don't wanna go**."

He couldn't just leave.

He couldn't leave everyone alone.

He couldn't.

His mind went through every problem, every solution, everything he missed.

Everyone who he would miss.

Oh God, he can't leave. Not yet.

He still has to beat up the Purple raisin chin man and met the other Avengers.

I haven't said goodbye yet

It was then that his mind seemed to pull him back to reality, now realising that Mr Start was cradling him, tearing himself apart trying to help the trembling whimpering boy he's become.

But there was nothing he could do.

Even as his mind raced, seconds becoming an eternity, the tears welling up in his mentor's eyes made him think back.

It made him think of Ben.

How he felt cradling his body, calling for help, only for them to arive too late.

The sorrow that was overwhelming until it drove him to do the right thing and put on his mask.m

Did Uncle Ben feel like this?

Did he look up at me scared? Knowing he would die?

Wondering what to say, in his last moments?

Then he thought of the funeral, the loss, the despair as he held the man who was like a father to him.

Feeling the blood drain from his body.

Feeling the heat leave the body.

Watching his father in everything but blood change, from Ben, into a corpse.

"I'm sorry…" Everyone…

One last tear fell down his face as he looked off into the distance, feeling the inevitable plague of death finally reach over him... darkness filling his vision.

It was painful, the worst pain he ever felt. Everything he ever felt seemed to fail in comparison.

But now… Nothing was left.

He couldn't feel anything.

…But why?

Why was the pain coming back?

Why was the feeling coming back?

His arms, his legs, all of it was there.

Why?

He opened his eyes with a start, taking greedy gulps of air into his lungs.

He was alive?

Why?

Hyperventilating, but alive.

Each breath seemed to burn as he felt his heart pound faster and faster.

Slow breaths.

In though the nose, out through the mouth, like a straw.

**Focus**, _focus,_ focus.

**Breathe in, breathe out**,_ in and out_, in and out.

It felt like another painful eternity before he could finally calm down enough to take in his surroundings.

They weren't what he was expecting...

Why was he standing on orange water, in a sea of orange emptiness?

Why was there a green woman in front of him?

Oh.

"Now it makes sense."

The woman tilted her head questioningly.

"I'm dead."

Sadly he was too busy trying to make sense of his situation to notice her exasperated look.

"You must be like, a god, or something " he finished.

The woman then stared straight into his eyes, seemingly looking into his soul, which would be entirely possible for a god.

"No, I am Gamora. I was part of the Guardians of the Galaxy." The majestic god, not a god, explained.

"Oh, YOU'RE Gamora." He was happy to finally have a face to the name.

"Yes, I was also the one who brought you here." She explained, leaving him with one overpowering question.

"…Why?"

"Why?" She questioned in return.

"Yeah, why? Why save me? What about your team?" He asked in honest curiousity, although his voise was quiet.

"…I couldn't… Reach them in time." She answered solemnly.

"Oh. I'm sorry…" he apologised quietly looking up at her with a guilty and apologetic look.

"It's ok…"

That answer left them in a solem silence before Peter gathered his courage and decided to change the subject.

"So where are we?"

"Inside the soul stone." She said, like it would explain everything. It didn't. But Peter didn't dwell on that fact as he exploded with enthusiasm.

"Wait, what?! Woah! That's awesome!"

"But you won't be here for long." She stated, while pointing at his hands which were beginning to look transparent.

"Woah" he exclaimed, receiving a light chuckle in response before the not quite god, but in his opinion pretty close, Gamora continued.

"You see I pulled you here while I was forced to push your body somewhere else."

"Wow, ok? First off, thanks, for like, everything. Second, umm do you know where? Like if I'll be back on earth or somewhere else crazy, like Asgard. Wait please tell me I'll wake up in Asgard!" He began to ramble wildly in the hopes of seeing the undoubtedly mystical - or would it be mythical? - home of one of his favourite heroes/Gods.

"Wait what do they do in Asgard, do I bow?" He asked, stumped.

"Ok, hold up, so first off I don't know where your body was sent, I just know it won't be on the same plane of existence," Gamora explained curtly as he sighed in disappointment.

Seeing Asgard or Thor for that matter would be the most awesome thing ever, even after he's been to space and fought aliens.

"Looks like you're getting pulled back, " She observed, as he looked down to see his legs were already transparent.

"What? Wait! How do I get back home!" He asked in a last-ditch effort.

"I'm sorry kid. I'll do what I can." She paused before bringing up a hand to wave goodbye, "Hopefully I see you soon though."

Peter just watched as the world around him seemed to distort and blur, before finally looking back at his saviour, "Thank you for everything, Miss Guardian of the Galaxy."

After seeing the beginnings of a smile make its way onto her face, the next thing he knew, he was being pulled, sucked through an ever-changing tunnel as his body - or was it his soul? - was pulled by some vacuum that got stronger and stronger until he felt like he was free-falling through the sky, without air pressure, which was definitely weird.

Until, after what seemed like an eternally long moment of travel, he was suddenly thrown sideways into a bright light that opened at the end of the ever-changing tunnel.

The only thing that soothed his mind as unending questions plagued his mind was the lack of a warning tingle.

Then suddenly, as if he had just woken up from a dream, he was looking up at the sky.

Vast, endless blue stared back at him, skyscrapers falling into the edge of his view as city noise flooded his being with calm, the familiar noises of traffic and people were music to his ears, and rushed him with relief.

He welcomed to pleasant loud noises, reminding himself that everything around him was real.

That **he** was real.

Although as he began to take in all the smaller sounds around him, he noticed two things. One, his whole body ached, everything hurt, everything tingled, he couldn't move. Two, the people around him, he couldn't understand them, the language they spoke wasn't one he knew, yet it sounded vaguely familiar.

With these two new discoveries, he knew one thing for sure…

He should have stayed on the bus.

-X-

\- So like most of my other stories, this chapter is a prologue, and I plan to get to the more MHA stuff in the next chapter. I hope anyone who reads this finds it at least a little interesting as a start, especially because there's a lotta great PP to MHA stuff out there. -

\- please let me know if you like it, or if you have any cool ideas for the storyline -

MadMoonLunatic


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter - 2 - Not so far from home?

— for anyone who actually reads this section I just wanna let you know that this fan fiction will be a mashup between the multiple versions of Spiderman, and it'll be based in an alternate universe, so not the classic 616 or the cinematic 199999, it'll be really similar to them though more things will be explained and Peter Parker has a bit more experience—

-X-

Peter Parker never liked waking up after a fight.

It was one of the worst things to do, and from the way people talk about them, Peter assumed it was like waking up to a more physical version of a hangover.

One with bruises, bruises that you both could and couldn't remember receiving.

Peter knew how waking up after a fight felt.

He went toe to toe with the Avengers.

He knew how to take a hit before that… though that fight, or as he liked to call it, the 'Civil War' was what really taught him to take superpowerd hits.

Yet as the post-battle pain laced around his whole body, he knew, even being hit by the hulk wouldn't lead him to this.

All he could think about in that moment was the way the pain pulsated through his body, sending spasms of movement shooting through different parts of his body uncontrollably.

He couldn't move, couldn't hunch in on himself, couldn't protect himself, all he _could_ do was look up at the passing sky as his body tried to overcome the phantom pain that he felt streaming millions of patterns just under his skin.

His body hurt.

Burned.

It branded him into place even as he felt his stomach eating itself from pure hunger under the phantom pain.

Then, he noticed something.

Something he _really_ should have noticed earlier…

The sky was moving, the air was rushing past him, _he_ was moving.

Ok, no, he wasn't moving… whatever he was laying on of was.

So in a miserable attempt to get up, he found himself turning his head and looking around instead, each twist of his neck sending shockwaves of pain through hiss spine until finally, _finally,_ he could look over his shoulder and actually see what was moving him.

A train, he was on top of a **train!**

**How did he not notice he was on a train!  
**

Why could he never just wake up on a quiet rooftop, or in a nice field of grass?

Then he took a deep breath, subconsciously trying to dull the pain.

What he wasn't expecting was the crisp smell of the food court passing below him to fill his nose as well and all the foods that inhabited it; chicken, fish, steak, ramen, sushi, pasta and, oh… what he wouldn't do for a slice pepperoni pizza.

God, he was hungry.

Because… after everything that just happened, even after seeing space with his own two eyes, even as his body burned with a phantom pain… it was his growling stomach that lead him to regret not asking for seconds and thirds at breakfast.

It was all he could think about, even as his body seemed to be fighting with itself just under his skin, all he truly knew was that he was hungry.

Starving.

His mind raced uncontrollably ass he thought about the effects an extra bowl of cereal could have provided, the extra mile he could have ran, the extra hit he could have landed, the extra _second_ that would have gotten the gauntlet out of Thanos' reach.

His mind swirled in a unstoppable cycle of 'what if's until he heard a scream… then, as if to top it all off, he started to hear explosions.

It was then that Peter cursed his Parker luck, pain lacing just under his skin as he stumbled to his feet, willing his adrenaline to kick in and dull the pain as he assessed the incoming situation from on top of the moving vehicle.

It wasn't what he was expecting, but after the day he just had, a giant whale/mole man blinded by rage and fear was just the dose of normal the doctor ordered.

The train began to screech to a stop and he could hear the surprised yells that came from the passengers below as he sprinted for the front of the train, leaping between the different carriages and bolting to the front subconsciously realising the train wouldn't stop in time.

So with a quick prayer for his web-shooters to work after his unexpected teleport, he pulled his fingers back into a familiar position before firing two web lines and threw himself down onto the train tracks hard enough to leave cracking under his feet as he landed a few meters before the screeching train that was sparking at it's wheels.

With what little time he had, and a prayer that his webs would hold the train securely, he began to build a large spiders-web between the surrounding skyscrapers and in front of the stopping train, successfully catching the train and pulling the train into screeching stop right before the villain occupied overpass.

As the train almost began bouncing back from the webs elasticity Peter found himself huffing in both relief and mild pride in his invention.

So with a friendly wave to the surprised train conductor, he turned to face the real threat now that the people on board were safe, and the train was secure.

That train wouldn't be moving for hours, that's for sure.

What surprised the boy through as he watched the human reincarnation of Moby dick, was the heroes that scene, completely slipping under his radar.

Heroes he _hadn't_ heard of.

Peter knew heroes, he admired them, he was one after all.

Though as he watched 3 different heroes arrive at the scene, 2 of which quickly provided crowd control, as the other looked a if he was preparing for an attack.

Peter didn't _know_ these heroes.

Peter Parker the boy who prided himself in his Pop Culture, science and hero knowledge, didn't _know_ these heroes.

Heroes who, from the looks of it, had experience.

Heroes who looked like they knew how to work together on the fly and control a crowd.

Heroes, he SHOULD kno — Oh my God!

Then a gained lady came jump kicking the giant villain without any warning, all but flying past the overpass as she squashed him into the ground and successfully immobilised him.

With his train of thought successfully cut off, the young Avenger watched dumbstruck as the woman began to remove her foot from the villain back, leaving her associates to cuff said villain while she began to pose for the… Cameras?

Ok…?

Let's hope this doesn't reach JJJ… God knows how he would somehow spin this whole LITERAL train wreak into being his fault.

With that thought in mind and the villain successfully constrained the boy walked back to the train doors and pried them open as a flood of passengers began to exit the vehicle.

He provided quick assessments of the passengers and split them based on their injuries, though as he began helping the innocent passengers out of the train and towards a a designated safe location, he found himself speechless in anxious confusion as more and more strange people exited the vehicle.

People who all seemed fine with the fact they where one a train with a LITERAL CENTAR, or a man who had gills, or a woman who was made completely out of fabric… or even the group of transparent ghost-like people.

Even more so was how casual most of the people seemed about the whole event, like they were used to it? still shaken up of course, but they seemed to take it in stride.

What was going on here?

Then a middle-aged man with a moustache and shades and approached him speaking as he drew closer, and for the life of him, he just couldn't understand.

"助けてくれてありがとう、誰が何を知っている電車が時間内に止まらなかったら起こりました."

Ok, what?

"What?" He asked dumbly. Not his best moment that's for sure.

Thankfully Tony Stark, a genius among genius's prepares for the unexpected. Even a language gap it would seem as bold English type appeared along the edge of his HUD.

**Language: Japanese **

**—Hey, thanks for the help, who knows what would have happened if the train didn't stop in time.—**

The automatic language analysis brought him more joy and relief then he thought he was possible after the physically and emotionally exhausting day he somehow managed to survive.

Because Peter knew, Spider-Man now knew, he was back on earth, earth now occupied with a larger number of mutants, but earth nonetheless.

He was closer to home than ever… because even if Mr Stark is a genius, billionaire, philanthropist and hero, even as he planned for every situation possible - evident in his suits - his mentor, his hero, wasn't so far ahead that he had planned for a language gap with aliens, he might have incorporated an automatic language analysis system into FRIDAY, but even he didn't know alien languages.

He thinks…

He could never be to sure, Mr Stark did take the whole space thing pretty easy back on the flying metal flavoured Krispy Kream.

But no, the language listed here, was defiantly one from earth.

So now at least I know he was on earth, he knew the what people around him were speaking and most importantly, could understand them.

Then without thinking about the fact that middle-aged man portly couldn't understand his language, the young hero found himself responding to the praise happily in his home tongue.

"Your welcome." It was the look surprised that found Peter finally worrying about the language gap, waving his arms around in an anxious attempt to communicate.

The man just smiled and continued to speak, this time surprisingly, in English.

"That was some train stop, and I've got to say, that's some costume you have there, looks just like something my Great-Grand-Pops came up with. Back in his hay-day of course." Then the man held out his hand to shake, "Stan-Lee, The-Third. Costume designer extraordinaire." Peter found himself taking the mans hand on instinct.

"So what's the name?" He asked in a slightly American accent.

"Spider-Man." He answered, then as an afterthought, he added, "Avenger." With a swell of pride.

The man before him smiled, beamed, practically exuding excitement as he fumbled for something in his pocket before pushing that something into his unknowingly outstretched hand.

"I know right now you have it covered, but if you ever need another suit in the future." He looked down and found a crisp red business card with a bold white **MARVEL** printed onto it, he flipped it over and found the mans information and phone number.

After watching the young hero assess the card, he finished his proposal. "I'll be there."

The man - Mr Lee - turned and began to leave.

Leaving only a voice in the wind and a card in his hand as proof they had ever met

"it's important to look good, especially when doing good."

He explained confidently, proudly, as he walked, never once looking back.

Peter watched him leave, bewildered, yet he couldn't take his eye off him as he walked, looking like he finally found what he was looking for, something that couldn't be explained.

Tucking Mr Lee's card away into a hidden compartment within his suit for later, a smile split onto the young retreating heroes face as he silently fled the scene, almost like he was never there in the first place, much like the bewildering conversation before the young hero, vigilante, only left behind one material thing.

Something that would later become his trademark, a massive spiderweb, one that in this case, caught a train like a fly.

The smile only seemed to grow as he swung down an unfamiliar street, with familiar ease provided by the abundant skyscrapers, reaching heights in his swings he never had before.

The smile grew with the thought that he really had made it back to earth, even if it was a little different from what he remembered.

He would have to thank Gamora the next time he saw her.

He would have to somehow make his way back to New York and meet up with Mr Stark, let him know he was ok.

Let him know that he didn't die.

He would see May again, and Ned, and MJ.

Because if he survived then, everyone else did too.

Right?

And nobody looked like they were panicking, - even is some of them didn't look normal - so it must be true.

The Avengers won.

Earth won, the universe was safe.

His friends and family were safe… he was safe.

After all, where else could he be but earth?

-X-

— sorry the wait, and the abrupt ending, but I felt it was the best way to end the second chapter, hope you like! And sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes, feel free to pull me up on them though! As always, hope you liked it. Let me know if u did. —

-Gotta love an early Stan Lee cameo (kind of)-

MadMoonLunatic


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter - 3 - A kidnapping?

\- super sorry for the wait! But I'm back, and as always I don't own MHA or MARVEL, just the storyline. Hope you like! (Though this chapter is mainly a filler, sorry!)-

After an unusual wake-up call in a foreign country and beginning the day with a _literal_ train wreck, Peter honestly thought it could only go up from there.

He was wrong.

After successfully escaping a swarm of press that flooded into the scene at the overpass the young arachnid themed hero found himself swinging through unfamiliar streets with ease.

Free falling through a foreign land until another shot of web would pull him higher into the sky then he's ever been and away from the deathly clutch of gravity.

The familiar cityscape of towering buildings and skyscrapers wrapped in reflective glass reminded him of a cement jungle and with it, his home in New York.

Towers surrounded him in a reflected maze of an unfamiliar city's skyline, each structure providing stable surfaces for his web-shooters in a way that made each swing a new test to reach higher and higher into the sky until he felt he could touch the clouds.

Pushing himself further and further gave him a sense of accomplishment like no other as he viewed the foreign city from thousands of angles high up in the sky.

When he looked down he could see them, thousands of people walking through their everyday lives. Thousands of small dots covered the streets he passed, growing larger and larger as he fell towards them before another web line once again pulled him to the sky.

The sense of calm the familiar action gave him was uncanny, filling his body and soul with relief in a way that could only compare to when Mr Stark would let him into the lab as they worked together on what was undoubtedly, some of the most advanced technology in the world.

Something his mentor liked to rub in his face constantly when he talked about how he was behind on his homework.

Though with his growing comfort came the absence of adrenaline.

Something that was dually needed to both dull the unexplainable pain that still circulates through his body, and to keep his mind sharper than a knife.

Yet as he found himself web-slinging even in a foreign area, the subconscious feeling of calm crept its way into his skin. Unknowingly fulling the pain, that used to be only a dull ache with the help of fresh adrenaline pumping through his system.

Peter knew he knew that bad things happened when he let his guard down, and in unfamiliar terrain, that could be deadly.

He could think of a very recent example.

An example that he was sure he would have to go to therapy for.

Therapy huh, he pushes the thought to the back of his mind, not like he could actually go again without having to reveal his secret identity.

Denial would be his friend instead, the therapist he saw a few times as a child often told him it wasn't a healthy emotional outlet, but not like he would ever see one again.

Though on second thought, he could go in costume, and he would happily if that meant he didn't end up like a certain other red and black vigilante that he knew, one that he often found talking to himself.

Deadpool has all kinds of problems…

Even if he found himself admitting that he also talked to himself in the dead of night…

What? It wasn't his fault that all the villains he chased didn't share his quippy tendency!

Yet even as he swung through largely populated streets a niggling feeling of insecurity eventually brought him to a screeching stop as his knee buckled from an unexpected shot of pain, promptly 'landing' him on an unoccupied rooftop.

He rolled harshly to a stop groaning through the now prominent pain coursing through his body to curl in on himself in a futile attempt to once again dull the immobilising pain, a pain that seemed to scorch both mind and body alike forcing him into a deep sleep.

Little did he know that the rooftop he landed on was actually an apartment complex, or that a college student with a righteous brother and a strong moral compass liked to watch the hustle and bustle of the morning from the quiet rooftop of her apartment building.

And so, with a cup coffee and her phone in hand a young woman made her way up the final stairs to the roof and promptly opened the door to the silent rooftop.

She wasn't expecting to come face to face with the newest vigilante in town, but life is anything but predictable.

-x-

If waking up after a fight was bad, then waking up in an unfamiliar place was just downright ruinous. Especially two times in one day… that gets a little hard to explain.

Once can usually be explained; 'Sorry, I've been staying up for the past week and just collapsed', 'No I'm just waking up after a fight', even the; 'Yes aunt may ill be home for dinner, I just fell asleep on the train.'

But twice?

That usually ends up leaning a little more towards the truth, in the HOPE to sound believable.

('Sorry Ned, I was kidnapped for like the fifth time, can you cover for me?'

Or the ;

'I know, I know, chasing a weapons dealer onto a crashing plane isn't the most solid plan, BUT! You really should have had some proper security, Mr Stark. You should really be thanking me.')

Even to himself sometimes…

Peter Parker never admitted it, but the kidnappings are a pretty common occurrence...

More common than going to the cinema with Aunt May.

More common than going out with a girl in general…

(other than school that is.)

Yet each time Peter found himself walking under an unfamiliar ceiling not knowing how he got there, worry would shoot through his being, easily reflected through instinct as his hand shot up to his mask as fast as a bullet.

His mask was always his first priority in such situations.

Yet this time, he found his mask still on his face, (not that they could take it off, something Mr Stark made sure of) with surprisingly no sign of tampering.

It was even more unusual when he sat up and noticed the soft blanket draped over him, seemingly placed carefully over him while he slept, on what he now realised was a couch.

A comfortable couch... something he usually didn't wake up to in his sadly vast history of kidnappings.

... it reminded him of home.

It reminded him of the late nights where he couldn't find it in him to walk those few extra steps to his room, to climb that extra wall to his window.

Those nights where he woke up dazed on the couch in a cocoon of blankets and to the smell of blueberry pancakes.

Those nights that reminded him how much his Aunt May _truly, undoubtedly _loved him.

Spider-Man didn't wake up like that.

Not with his mask on at least.

Spider-Man woke up in darkly lit basements not knowing how he got there.

Spider-Man woke up to people trying to pry his mask from his face.

Spider-Man got kidnapped, and waking up on a couch was unusual in those situations.

_Especially_ under a blanket.

The young Boy from Queens found himself reliving those unplanned yet ever-comforting mornings with his Aunt May in his mind, much like a brief commercial break from reality.

Scenes that were so vivid he could almost _smell_ blueberry pancakes.

Then with a jolt and the sound of something flipping on a pan, the boy suddenly found himself ripped back to reality.

It was at that moment when he realised, he really **could** smell pancakes.

Yet equally surprising was the realisation that they didn't smell burnt and/or maimed.

This wasn't Aunt May.

It couldn't be.

No way in hell.

The panic that crawled up the boy's spine and shooting him upright was by no means unexpected, even as his body moved faster then his mind could process the young hero followed his hostage honed instincts and already found an escape.

A window.

It didn't matter how high up he was.

His web shooters were still untampered with, he could swing away.

He could go home.

To Aunt May.

To real (burnt) pancakes.

His body followed though instinctively as he successfully ripped open the window, only ever realising the force of his actions shattered the class after he was halfway out the of the high rise building.

He was so focused on escape, on his need to get home, to see Aunt May and everyone that he didn't notice he had company, not until he heard the sound of clattering crockery behind him.

It was only then that his mind finally caught up with him and he remembered this was a kidnapping.

That he was still a kid.

He turned his head so fast he was surprised he didn't get whiplash to look at his kidnapper.

Only to be greeted with a young woman.

A woman who didn't look much older than him.

A woman with long black locks and vibrant green eyes that tracked his every move, like they were struggling not to scare a cornered animal.

Sadly, it seemed appropriate, he did have one leg dangling outside a high rise building.

He probably looked like he was going to jump out of the building.

Which he was...

He looked down to what caused the noise and there, in her hands, was just short of everything he'd ever wished for.

There in her hands was a plate of steaming blueberry pancakes.

"Pancakes?"

That one word, pulled the boy back inside what he now realised was in a living room.

That word and the ravenous growl that erupted from his stomach in response to the smell of freshly made pancakes...

Something that, if asked on a later date, he wouldn't admit to doing.

God, he was hungry.

\- sorry about the wait again! But the chapters should come out with more regularity when we hit the action-packed arcs, mainly cuz I enjoy writing them more (so I've already started).

Please be sure to leave a comment and share your ideas. It's always a blast to hear what you think! -

MadMoonLunatic


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter - 4 - Second Favourite Kidnapping. 

— Hey guys, as always I don't own BNHA or anything Marvel, but I do own the storyline, if there's anything you don't get or if you want to suggest some ideas then feel free to PM me or leave a comment down below. —

— Enjoy! —

-x-

Peter Parker was beginning to learn that anything he deems impossible, usually isn't, and it's usually proven in the worst possible way.

(Someone shrinking yet to the size of an ant, then growing to the size of a giant, Impossible.

Yet proven possible in a fight against him.)

(Him getting superpowers, impossible.

Unless you get bitten by a radioactive spider on a field trip.)

(Even getting a date for prom was utterly impossible for punny little Parker...

Except when his date has a supervillain for a father.)

Though he would admit, not _every_ impossibly was proven wrong in the worst possible way.

Today was a prime example.

Peter Parker knew that getting to eat delicious pancakes with PROPER MAPLE SYRUP. LIKE, MADE FROM MAPLE, was impossible during a kidnapping, it just wasn't supposed to happen.

But as they say, 'When life gives you lemons...'

Though in his case instead of 'Make lemonade' it's 'eat piping hot blueberry pancakes' not that he was complaining.

Not at all.

And with those thoughts, Peter ate.

He ate at a speed that many heroes and beasts only ever dreamed of, giving proper evidence to the term 'inhaling food.'

It was however very, very fulfilling.

The sweet taste of proper maple syrup, the slight bitterness when he bit into a blueberry hidden within the fluffed batter of the pancakes.

It was perfect, yet it was like a dream in so many ways... a magical moment over far too quickly.

He gazed mournfully down at his empty plate before once again turning to look up at the woman, she seemed to hesitate for a moment before a cheerful smile bloomed onto her face.

Surprisingly when she spoke up, it happened to be in English.

"Think you'd like another?"

And just like that, the late Saturday morning flew by in a whirlwind of delicious food and light-hearted conversation.

It was around noon when the young hero actually found he was actually enjoying the company.

When he found himself enjoying being kidnapped.

Then the door opened…

Someone else came onto the scene, and strangely enough, it was a police officer.

Not that he seemed particularly interested in helping him escape.

Quite the opposite actually, and isn't that just his luck?

-x-

Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi wasn't having a good day, even worse he couldn't explain why.

Ever since he woke up this morning it's seemed like the world was against him, and it wasn't because of the headache he woke up with.

Before even leaving the safety of his home the detective had found gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe, the hot water not working in the shower, and he somehow managed to stub his toe on a door of all things, (before it swung back and hit him in the face) the cherry on top seemed to be the cactus falling off its shelf and onto him while he was watering it.

So yeah, he wasn't having a good start to the day, and it only seemed to be worse at work with a new hero going by the name 'Spider-Man' fleeing a villain attack without listing credentials or his hero registration.

He was beginning to think it was a new vigilante scouring the streets for unsupervised and illegal 'hero work.'

Which was just what he needed, _another_ vigilante.

Dear God, didn't he have enough on his plate?

Even when he thought his day couldn't get any worse, lunchtime rolled around and he realised he left his lunch at home because of course, he did.

Throwing his head into his hands with a groan Naomasa finally accepted that he was going to have to get something from the food court across the street, it wouldn't have all his favourites like Makoto's lunchbox did, (especially after she saw the wreck he was this morning) but he'd have to manage.

So with reluctant acceptance, the detective fished into his pocket to grab his wallet.

Only to find it wasn't there.

Where is it?!

Frantically he began pouring out his pockets onto his desk.

His police notebook, police badge and pen were all there, even a couple strips of old wrapped gum where stuffed into the seams.

His gloves were on his desk next to his hat, and there was nothing else but lint left in his pockets after his frantic search.

So with another, much louder groan, his head found its way onto his desk in frustration as officers nearby looked over in confusion.

So it's come to this... he'd have to skip lunch, Makoto wouldn't be happy.

As if to protest his final decision, his stomach released an embarrassingly loud growl, one that drew more attention then he was comfortable with getting him do rethink his decision as he quickly dashed out of the building before any of his junior officers discovered where exactly, or who, the growl came from.

So, with that slightly embarrassing exit, Naomasa finally began his commute home.

Little did he know, his sister had company, or that in a few short hours a young moss haired boy would meet his hero.

-x-

Peter Parker said it once and he'll say it again, he was having a blast.

The food was great, (pancakes!) his kidnapper didn't even strap him down or anything, she was even polite enough to give her name, Makoto Tsukauchi!

(Even if it wasn't her real name he appreciated the sentiment)

Strangely enough, this was officially his second favourite kidnapping.

(Iron Man taking him to Germany came first.

He got a new suit, and he got to meet the Avengers, overall pretty cool kidnapping. There was a bit more infighting from his kidnapped then he was expecting, but he got to hold - steal - CAPTAIN AMERICA's SHEILD, so plus sides!)

Although as they say, all good things come to an end and so did this one.

So as surprising as it was for a stranger to walk into the apartment, it ultimately didn't startle him too much.

Only enough to once again have one foot out the window before the intruder finally noticed his presence.

2 for 2 with attempted escapes and both were caught in the same position, although this time he didn't open the window, just crushed some of the already shattered glass in his impromptu escape.

He looked up at the man who was in the midsts of removing his tan coat and hat, looking every bit like a police detective before he stopped mid-greeting to stare at the unknown party, him.

The realisation made his white suit eyes widen with shock before he heard a resounding 'smack' and turned to look at the woman who made the delicious blueberry pancakes in the middle of a facepalm.

It was a good facepalm, worthy of a meme or a classic caption, something like 'screwed the pooch' or a reaction to some rather out-there conspiracy theory's, either way, 10 out of 10 would facepalm again.

The comical sight of an everyday guy eyes blown with shock before turning to the nice pancake lady with something akin to exasperation (something he was all too familiar with) as she looking back at him with a 'what can you do face' that _really_ didn't scream sympathetic was a delight to behold and surprisingly refreshing.

It reminded him of home, with Aunt May, or of tinkering with Mr Stark and DUMB-E, or Ned and MJ talking about his greatest hits or fails in his opinion.

It was so refreshing that he fell back into a familiar rhythm, and held out his hand to the stranger before him, or strangers.

"Hi, I'm Spider-Man, nice to meet you."

-x-

— sorry the wait again, and I hope everyone's staying safe atm, please let me know what you think of the chapter and story in general down below! Also special shout out for my first Spanish comment, and over 100 follows! —

MadMoonLunatic


End file.
